


The Way I Said I Love You

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, POV Multiple, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 19:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5837362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three little words, said many different times, by many different people, in many different situations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way I Said I Love You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sideofrawr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sideofrawr/gifts), [shnuffeluv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shnuffeluv/gifts).



> My 900th fic on AO3! ::grins:: I'm so proud! This is kind of my love letter to the show Sherlock, and to all my favorite ships on the show and my favorite ships to write. It was inspired by an ask meme I posted on Tumblr, that asked people pick a ship and one of thirty-five ways that ship would say "I love you." I ended up picking my favorites for most of these couples to make a longer fic collection, but I had fun writing all of these.

  
**Pillow Talk**  
Irene Adler/Janine Hawkins   
_in a blissful sigh as you fall asleep_   


She nestled against Irene, loving the feel of her body against her. Irene’s hand skimmed along her waist before settling on her hip. “You should be asleep,” she murmured near Janine’s ear, her fingers edging under the hem of her silk camisole top.

“I know I should, darling, but I’m thinking about things,” she said.

“Such as?” Irene asked.

“Why we didn’t do this earlier,” she said as Irene let her fingertips play on her skin. “Why we both chased after Sherlock.”

Irene chuckled at that. “Mmm, because there’s something interesting about him? Or because we both find intelligence attractive?”

“I suppose,” Janine said. “But I find you even more attractive.”

“I’m glad, because I feel the same,” she said. “Sherlock was an idiot to pass over both of us.”

“Yes, he was a right idiot,” Janine said with a laugh before yawning slightly. 

“Go to sleep, darling,” she said, pressing a kiss to her neck. “I love you.”

Janine smiled to herself and moved her hand so it rested on top of Irene’s. “I love you too, Irene,” she said before shutting her eyes. She wasn’t sure what she had done to get so lucky, but she was thankful.

  
**Just Like Old Times**  
Greg Lestrade/Sally Donovan  
_over a beer bottle_   


Maybe it was all the beer they’d had. Maybe it was the stress of the case. Maybe it was the fact this was the first time they’d worked together since she’d been promoted and it felt like old times. God, she’d missed the old times, or at least the good parts. The late nights together, the conversations over takeaway, pints at The Porterhouse.

And yeah, maybe this time the late night had moved to her flat and the takeaway had been upgraded from the crap they’d been used to and they were having bottles of the craft beer she’d taken a liking to a few boyfriends back that was better than the tosser had ever been, but it all felt so comfortable, so good, so…right.

And _maybe_ the words had slipped out, the three words she’d never expected to say to Greg. He’d just kind of frozen, then set his beer down and said them back. Gone on to say he’d felt that way for a long time, never thought she’d see him that way, ever consider him.

And when beers and food and case were forgotten for other important matters, well, she supposed that was just right too.

  
**Intimate**  
Irene Adler/Molly Hooper  
_with no space left between us_   


The thing about Molly was that she liked closeness. That had surprised Irene; she had expected her to want it on occasion, but she had no idea how much Molly _craved_ it. Any chance she got, she kept Irene close, worming her way into an embrace or wrapping her arms around her or walking with their shoulders touching.

And Irene loved this. It thrilled her every time Molly touched her, sent an electric jolt every time Molly’s fingertips touched her skin. That had surprised her so much; she’d never had that happen with any of her lovers before. That was how she knew something was different with Molly, that it was more than just a physical affair. That it was deeper, more meaningful.

It had to mean it was love.

When she decided to tell her, she reached for her lover, for her love, and pulled her close, face to face, so there was no space between them. She reached up and caressed her cheek, letting her lips brush the corner of her mouth as she whispered her love for her softly into her ear, and Molly pulling her closer was all she needed to know she felt the same.

  
**Evening Routines**  
Mycroft Holmes/Anthea  
_over a cup of tea_   


Every evening, they had tea.

Most people would have an alcoholic nightcap before going to bed, but not him. He thought a cup of tea was best to settle him. And most nights, Anthea was there with him, so most nights she was there to share it with him. It was nice to have company. It was pleasant, and if he wanted to admit it, he wouldn’t mind this being the case every night.

But he would have to admit something to her, something he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit. So as they had their tea that evening, or rather, as she had her tea and he simply held his cup and stared at it, he tried to figure out what to say.

“Mycroft?” she asked finally.

“Yes?” he said, looking up.

“You’re preoccupied,” she said.

He was quiet for a moment. “I believe I might be in love with you,” he said quietly.

She nodded slightly and then picked up the pot of tea. “I thought as much. I suppose it’s a good thing I love you too,” she said before pouring more. “More tea?”

“Yes, please,” he said. He smiled at that. That hadn’t been so hard.

  
**A Comedy Of Errors**  
John Watson/Mary Morstan  
_in a letter_   


He knew he loved her almost immediately. Oh, well within their first few dates it was quite obvious he was absolutely smitten with her and it had evolved into love fairly quickly afterward. But telling her…that proved to be the rough bit. Every time he tried to tell her it just turned into an utter disaster.

Mary deserved better than that.

So he decided to take the safe approach. Writing it in a letter would be best. He could spill his heart out and there was absolutely no way he could muck it all up. No way at all.

Or so he’d thought.

Twelve hours later a laughing Mary let them into his flat as he held the bag of ice to his bruised nose. She was quite amused at how a simple letter could get him pummeled by a jealous husband. He didn’t find it hilarious at all, and he gruffly told her to read it. The letter, now crumpled and ripped, was opened, and soon the laughter stopped.

Then the ice was being taken off his face and two hands were caressing it and she was saying she loved him too.

That made it all better, he supposed.

  
**With A Light Heart**  
Mycroft Holmes/Molly Hooper   
_as a goodbye_   


Tom was supposed to have captured Molly’s heart, swept her off her feet, promised to love and cherish her for the rest of her life. For the most part, Tom did a very good job convincing the world of that. But Mycroft knew better. Mycroft knew that Tom was Molly’s protector, her nearly round the clock bodyguard, the one concession he had made to Sherlock’s demands.

No, Mycroft knew who _really_ had her heart, even if she couldn’t be open about it. Even if _he_ couldn’t be open about it.

It was their secret, the fact that she was the shining light in his life. Oh, he knew it would aggravate Sherlock so, and that was why he kept the truth close to the vest. He didn’t want Sherlock to ruin the most special thing in his life.

But that could happen, now that he had to retrieve him from his mission.

He went to see her, the night before. She was waiting with open arms. No words were said until he was about to leave. Then she said, simply, “I love you, Mycroft,” and gave him a smile as she pulled away, letting him leave with a light heart.

  
**Disbelief Versus Belief**  
Sherlock Holmes/Irene Adler   
_not said to me_   


“He loves you.”

She showed no hint that the man’s words had shocked her to the core. No. Sherlock Holmes did not love her. He was not that type of man. He could be fascinated with her, perhaps. Intrigued by her. She might go so far as to say _attracted_ to her, perhaps in an intellectual sense.

But in love with her?

Never.

“I’m afraid I don’t believe you,” she murmured, turning away from his brother. “We both know your brother is incapable of love.”

“I might have said that, once,” Mycroft said. “But I was mistaken.” She scoffed. “You don’t believe me.”

“No,” she said. She waited for a reaction, but there was none. After a few moments she turned away from the window, expecting to see Mycroft there. Instead, she saw Sherlock there, looking for all the world as though he wasn’t sure she wanted him there. Like she would ever not want him, after everything. “Sherlock.”

“Irene,” he said.

She moved away from the window towards him. “Do you really…?” He nodded, slowly, before pulling her in for a kiss. Oh, yes, that kiss told her all she needed to know that Mycroft’s words were indeed true.

  
**For All The Country To See**  
Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade   
_loud, so everyone can hear_   


Lestrade had been asked to represent Scotland Yard at a televised meeting with members of the government, and he hadn’t expected to see Mycroft there, which was a bit awkward, considering the fight they’d had a week prior. He wanted their relationship be open, and while he knew Mycroft really didn’t he was tired of it. Better to move on to someone who was proud to be with him than to keep it a secret.

He hadn’t expected to run into a homophobe in the group of politicians attending.

Finally, after a particularly pointed dig, he could see Mycroft was done. He planted both hands on the table and looked the man square in the eye. “Do you respect me, Carlton?” he asked. The man nodded. “Then when I propose to Detective Inspector Lestrade tonight, because I’d be an idiot not to, I’m going to make sure if Scotland Yard ever has to investigate any crimes against you, my fiancé is in charge of the case and he makes sure you’re treated accordingly to how you think he should be treated. Understood?”

“God, I love you,” Lestrade said loudly from behind as the man paled.

“I know,” Mycroft murmured back.

  
**Utterly Relieved**  
Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper   
_too quick, mumbled into your scarf_   


She was shaking like a leaf. It had been so close. If they had been just a few minutes later, she could be dead. She knew Greg wanted to talk to her and the paramedics wanted to look her over, but she didn’t care. She wanted to see Sherlock. She _needed_ to see Sherlock. She wouldn’t feel fine, 100% completely okay, until she did.

And then he was there, pushing through the crowd of people, making his way towards her like a magnet to a lodestone, and she was pushing people out of her way, heedless of her own injuries. He caught her up in an embrace and she clutched at his coat, burying her face in his chest. “Molly,” he said quietly, burying his nose in her hair.

“Oh my God, Sherlock, you’re okay,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “You’re all right, he didn’t hurt you.” Her voice was muffled because her mouth was facing his scarf. “I love you, Sherlock. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Molly,” he said, and she pulled back. He reached up to wipe the tears away before he kissed her and only then did she truly feel safe.

  
**Distractions**  
Irene Adler/Anthea   
_from very far away_   


Anthea knew that her boss was very much aware of a number on her phone, listed for A, that was the mobile number of a woman who he hoped would continue to stay dead and buried for the rest of eternity, or at the very least their natural lives. And despite all the trouble that A had caused, Anthea did not find herself sharing Mycroft’s sentiments.

She was one of a very select few to know where A was. Right now she was in Austria, in the long term residential apartments at a very fancy hotel in Vienna. Right now she was dining at their hotel restaurant. Right now she was sending her rather risqué text messages as Anthea was sitting in a meeting with delegates from the South African embassy in Mycroft’s office.

The messages were vastly more entertaining than the meeting, but she should be paying attention to that.

 _I have to turn my attention back to the delegates_ , she texted.

 _Pity,_ came the reply. _Until later, darling. I love you._

The ghost of a smile crossed Anthea’s face, though it left when Mycroft looked up. _I love you too, Irene,_ she texted back before stowing her mobile.

  
**Sweetest Moments**  
Molly Hooper/Sally Donovan   
_when baking chocolate chip cookies_   


Molly was a supremely good baker, but her biscuits paled in comparisons to Sally’s. She had known that ever since the woman had surprised her with a batch of them after the first case they had worked together. Molly’s favourites were her chocolate chip ones with the bits of toffee in them, and any chance she got to get them made her happy.

Once they started dating, it became a weekend ritual. Whatever day of the weekend that Sally had off they’d spend baking up a storm, and they’d always end it with the chocolate chip and toffee bit biscuits. To be honest, it was honestly the highlight of Molly’s week, these moments with her girlfriend.

So it didn’t surprise her that when she finally admitted to Sally how she felt, that she loved her, that she made her feel warm and happy and complete, that this relationship was the best she’d had and she was so happy, so unbelievably content, it was while they were baking the biscuits. It seemed to just be the perfect moment, and the kiss from Sally that came afterward was just as sweet as anything they had baked that day. 

Perhaps even sweeter, actually.


End file.
